A Timeless Light
by Tebby Sweet
Summary: FULL SUMMARY INSIDE A single Time Turner can change anything; when Harry sends Hermione back to change their future, they never could have imagined how the dark secrets of the past would reshape their world. Hermione must now make choices that will change them all irreparably. After discovering love in the past can she face her new future? The light burns dim in a cruel new world.
1. The Worst Memories

Disclaimer: I own nothing. I just like to take them out & play with them.

Full summary-

A single Time Turner can change everything. But when Harry sends Hermione back in time to change their future, they could never could have imagined how the dark secrets of the past would reshape their world. Now with the sinister burdens of a once buried time on her shoulders, Hermione must make choices that will change them all irreparably. But after discovering a love she never would have dreamed in the past, can she face the new future she's created? Nothing is what it seemed, and the light burns dim in a cruel new world.

Author's note: FOR THE FULL VERSION OF THIS STORY, you can read it on Granger Enchanted or AO3.

Many thanks to my wonderful beta, bunnyhops, for making it prettier.:)

For my story playlist, you can find me on Spotify at spotify:user:1269614311, or email me for the track list.:)

IMPORTANT NOTE: The text at the beginning is taken directly from Chapter 28 of Half-Blood Prince, titled Snape's Worst Memory.

**February 28th, 1996**

_"__He was at the office door when he saw it: a patch of shivering light dancing on the doorframe. He stopped, and stood looking at it, reminded of something . . . then he remembered; it was a little like the lights he had seen in his dream last night, the lights in the second room he had walked through on his journey through the Department of Mysteries._

_He turned around. The light was coming from the Pensieve sitting on Snape's desk. The silver-white contents were ebbing and swirling within. Snape's thoughts . . . things he did not want Harry to see if he broke through Snape's defenses accidentally . . ._

_Harry gazed at the Pensieve, curiosity welling inside him . . . what was it that Snape was so keen to hide from Harry?_

_The silvery lights shivered on the wall . . . Harry took two steps towards the desk, thinking hard. Could it possibly be information about the Department of Mysteries that Snape was determined to keep from him?_

_Harry looked over his shoulder, his heart now pumping harder and faster than ever. How long would it take Snape to release Montague from the toilet? Would he come straight back to his office afterwards, or accompany Montague to the hospital wing? Surely the latter . . . Montague was Captain of the Slytherin Quidditch team, Snape would want to make sure he was all right._

_Harry walked the remaining few feet to the Pensieve and stood over it, gazing into its depths. He hesitated, listening, then pulled out his wand again. The office and the corridor beyond were completely silent. He gave the contents of the Pensieve a small prod with the end of his wand._

_The silvery stuff within began to swirl very fast. Harry leaned forwards over it and saw that it had become transparent. He was, once again, looking down into a room as though through a circular window in the ceiling . . . in fact, unless he was much mistaken, he was looking down into the Great Hall._

_His breath was actually fogging the surface of Snape's thoughts . . . his brain seemed to be in limbo . . . it would be insane to do the thing he was so strongly tempted to do . . . he was trembling . . . Snape could be back at any moment . . . but Harry thought of Cho's anger, of Malfoy's jeering face, and a reckless daring seized him._

_He took a great gulp of breath, and plunged his face into the surface of Snape's thoughts. At once, the floor of the office lurched, tipping Harry head-first into the Pensieve . . ._

_He was falling through cold blackness, spinning furiously as he went, and then . . ."_

_ "Get out, get out, I don't want to see you in this office ever again!"_

_Harry bolted for the door as fast as he could and just as he reached it, a jar of dead cockroaches exploded against the stone wall over his head. He tossed the door open and sprinted away through the corridors, only stopping when he had put three floors between him and the furious potion's master._

_ He was in shock. He couldn't believe the things he had just witnessed. It had started off badly enough, terribly to be honest, with James, Sirius, Remus and Peter tormenting Severus. Suspending him upside down, making fun of him for his underwear, teasing him mercilessly. And then Lily tried to stop them, shouting angrily at James, her dislike for him written plainly on her face and her disgust obvious in her voice. In the next instant, and in payment of her defense of him, Severus angrily calling her a mudblood. It ended with her cool dismissal of him._

_ But then the worst part, the thing that he wished he could unsee- that he could never know about his father. The thing that his potion's master had seemed incredibly shocked that he had accidentally allowed Harry to witness, something that he had clearly never intended on telling Harry about, even though he got malicious pleasure from telling him how arrogant and bullying James had been. Obviously, he had no plans for showing him just how sadistic James had truly been._

_ Harry wished he had never touched that Pensieve._

_ He broke into a desperate run again, flying along the corridors, knowing only that he desperately needed to escape these walls that held so many secrets, so many lies. Before he knew it he was outside, sprinting across the grounds and past Hagrid's hut, deep into the cover of the twisting trees and heavy air. The Forbidden Forest, to the same little clearing not very far from Hagrid's, by the tiny trickling stream and rotted, fallen oaks that he had seen in Snape's memories._

_ He finally stopped here, gasping for breath, doubled over as his sides protested in agony. Here, where Snape had followed his father from the castle when he had seen him walking through the doors alone as night fell. He had not had the Invisibility Cloak, or the Marauder's Map, just his wand in one hand, broom in the other, and a calm, cold arrogance that he would not be tempered. Snape had obviously made the decision to follow him while hoping to catch him alone and unawares and repay him for the humiliating incident from earlier that day. He crept along quietly as James made his way to the Quidditch pitch, and Harry followed along through the memory, not knowing what was coming._

_ He watched beside Snape as James arrived at the Quidditch pitch and called out to a Ravenclaw boy as he was apparently leaving late night practice with the Ravenclaw team. His name was Jeremy, and he approached James without a second thought, waving his teammates on ahead. Just as Jeremy began to turn to James, his mouth open to perhaps ask what it was the other boy wanted, James lifted his wand level with Jeremy's chest._

_ "Imperio." Jeremy's face went slack, his eyes slid out of focus, and the question died on his lips. Snape and Harry froze in shock, just feet away as Snape crouched by a broom shed in the shadows._

_ "Walk next to me, Jeremy; around the other side of the field, towards the forest. We wouldn't want your friends to see us, would we?" James said coldly, his blue eyes flashing in the dark behind his glasses. Jeremy obeyed without a word and James followed close beside him, wand hidden between their bodies. Snape scrabbled to his feet after the pair was a ways ahead and hurried after them, careful to duck into the shadows around him to avoid being seen. Harry followed on numb feet, hardly believing what he was seeing._

_ James marched the boy into the Forbidden Forest, not going so far that he wouldn't be able to find his way back out, but deeply enough that it occurred to Harry how any noise that took place here would be for the ears of the forest only. He felt a chill crawl up his spine as James finally halted in the distance and Snape shuffled forward very slowly, very quietly, to observe._

_ "Jeremy, look at me, please," James said almost cordially, if not for the barely concealed malice in his words. The dazed boy did as instructed._

_ "Jeremy, today I saw you with Evans, after dinner and that unfortunate fiasco with Snivellus. I followed you out of the Great Hall, saw you ask her to speak with you privately in one of the classrooms. And then I heard you tell her that you hoped she'd go on another date with you to Hogsmeade this next weekend, and what a wonderful time you had last trip. That was the trip that I wasn't there, was it not? I had detention and you used that opportunity to get close to her, mess with what's mine. I thought I told you clearly once before that I was interested in Evans, and for you to back off. But you didn't Jeremy, you didn't and now I'm angry."_

_ As James spoke, his voice began to lose its calm, collected quality and develop a disturbing pitch. His words became uneven, the hand pointing his wand at the boy began to shake slightly, and his face seemed to twist terribly in the moonlight that filtered down through the dense treetops. Harry realized that his hands were shaking too, and he glanced at the young Snape and saw the same burgeoning horror on his face that he himself was feeling. Back in the clearing, Jeremy mumbled an ascent to James that he had tried to get close to Lily, and as Harry's attention turned back to this memory of his father, James Potter, a dam seemed to break within the boy._

_ "Crucio!" He screamed, his voice rippling with crazed anger. Jeremy fell to the forest floor screaming and writhing as James watched on with a terribly satisfied smile. On and on it seemed to go, and Harry wasn't sure how much more of this he could stand to watch, when James finally lifted his wand. Jeremy collapsed onto his stomach, heaving and twitching._

_ "Jeremy, I want you to apologize to me for trying to take what is mine," James informed him pleasantly._

_ "I- I... I'm sorry, Potter. I'm sorry, I shouldn't have messed with her," the boy choked out, gasping for breath as he did so._

_ "And now tell me that you'll never do so again. Because if you do, I will kill you. Slowly, delicately... I will torture you just until you think you can't take more, then I will heal you and do it all over again. I will make you beg for mercy, only to make you suffer for begging such a thing." James seemed to be slipping again, losing his tenacious hold on control._

_ "I won't! I won't... touch her again, I won't talk to her again, just don't do it again, I swear, I promise," Jeremy was struggling to his hands and knees now, trying to stand. He didn't see James lift his wand again, shadows dancing sinisterly on his face._

_ "No, Jeremy, you definitely won't. Because when the night is over, you're not going to be able to mess with anyone's girl again for a very long time. And the best part? You're not even going to remember why."_

_ Jeremy's head snapped up, eyes widening in fear as he saw James' wand trained on him again._

_ "No, please-!"_

_ "Crucio!" _

**June 18th, 1996**

_The room was now dark; the only source of light came from the flickering inside the broken Time cabinet. Each time the cabinet tipped over & smashed against the stone floor, dozens of winking lights faded into the darkness. Then the cabinet immediately righted itself, the lights twinkled, and everything repeated. The Time Turners were irreversibly damaged as far as Harry could tell_

_ He stood for a few moments longer than his friends, falling behind as Neville rushed out of the room with an injured Hermione in his arms. The flickering lights flashed in the reflection of his glasses, but his expression never changed as the cabinet shattered on repeat; he appeared dazed, unaware of the cacophony._

_ "Harry! Harry, come on, we've got to go now!" Neville's voice echoed into the room as if from far away through the partially opened door. Harry shook himself back to reality and turned away from the Time cabinet. He rushed to the door, realizing he'd wasted precious time here. He almost didn't notice the tiny light shining to his left, in the far corner of the room; not until his hand landed on the doorknob and he slowed his pace. He turned slowly, as if in a trance, hardly daring to breathe._

_ There it was, just feet away from him. Small and unobtrusive, barely a speck of dim light that threatened to be swallowed by the surrounding darkness. Harry let go of the door handle almost without thinking and slowly walked to it. Reaching out hesitantly, reverently, he picked up the lone Time Turner, the only one left. Behind him the cabinet continued to shatter and reform, and in his hands he held this one tiny piece of forever- his salvation._

**May 2nd 1998**

_Reality seemed to be fading in and out around Hermione as the battle raged around her. On the floor in the Great Hall, bloody, bruised, beaten... surrounded by the carnage and chaos that seemed to follow Harry and Voldemort wherever they went. She turned her head to the side, fighting back the sharp pain that protested every movement. Tears filled her eyes as she did so; not at the pain, but as she took in her immediate surroundings once again. She wish she hadn't looked, hadn't remembered._

_ Ron lay just feet away from her, close enough that she could perhaps touch him if she reached out. But he wouldn't feel it, would never feel it again. His head was turned to her, eyes open but unseeing; his neck was bent at an unnatural angle, and his body lay broken and motionless. She had seen him fall just moments before Bellatrix hit her with a powerful curse that left her bleeding out slowly, lethargic and slipping away quietly. Ron was dead, and she would soon follow. Harry had been dueling Voldemort last she had seen him, but he had been steadily losing ground, no match for the Dark Lord and the Elder wand that now answered to him after the murder of Draco Malfoy just weeks before at Malfoy Manor_

_ It was all over._

_ She heard a sharp cry of pain not far from where was lying, a voice she knew as well as her own. Another harsh cry, and then cackling laughter. Harry's body thudded to the ground beside her and his head landed on her stomach. She dared not open her eyes again to see him, terrified to see him, her hero, her best friend, as lifeless as Ron on her other side. She prayed for death to find her quickly._

_ "Hermione, can you hear me? Are you okay?" Harry's voice was rough and cracked with pain, but near her ear. She felt him adjust himself slightly against her, his hand moving between them as he felt for something against his chest. She turned her head slowly, away from Ron to face Harry. She opened her eyes slightly to regard him dazedly. Harry's head was lying across her stomach, with his chest pressed against her side. He had one hand in his robes and was starting intently at her, something fierce burning in his gaze. Hermione fought to focus._

_ "Hermione, you have to do something for me, okay? Something that I can't do myself, I have to stay here. But there's something I'm going to give you, that if you use it the right way then maybe I might can defeat him, in a different way. We don't have much time- will you do this for me?" Harry was rushing, almost tripping over his words. Behind him Hermione could see Voldemort and some of his followers laughing and jeering at them, though not paying much attention anymore. Why should they? Victory was obviously theirs. A burning rage shot through Hermione as she saw their gleeful faces, heard their celebratory shouting. A hatred unlike she'd ever experienced welled within her. Anything, anything to change this. Nothing could more terrible than this moment._

_ "Tell me, Harry. Quickly, we have to try," she whispered to him. Her eyes darted to the hand hidden by his robes as he pulled it out. His fist was wrapped tightly around something small, something with a familiar, long, golden chain..._

_ "Harry, how do you have this?! The entire cabinet was destroyed-" _

_ "It's not important, Hermione. Right now what matters is that I have one and that I need you to take it and go back, very, very far back. Change all of this." Harry interrupted her, staring at her with that fierce look in his eyes again. He pressed the Time Turner into her hand and tossed the long golden chain up around her head, where it immediately tangled with her wild curls._

_ "All of this? How far back are you thinking, Harry? I don't know if it's even possible for the Time Turner to spin back that many times!" Hermione whispered frantically to him, clutching the precious object closely to herself._

_ "It is possible, I've tested it myself the last few months with a spell that speeds up the speed of the turns. I'll cast the spell, you just have to hold on- it's not going to feel good." Harry shifted slightly against her and pulled his wand out from underneath him. He angled it up slightly towards the Time Turner clasped in her hands._

_ "I'm going to send you back to when my parents were still in school, Hermione. I want you to do your best to change all of this, create a totally different future, one where we stand a better chance of defeating Voldemort. I want you to go to Dumbledore, tell him about the Horcruxes, and start finding them years sooner. I want you to know my parents, I want you to... help them, if you can." Harry broke off here and averted his gaze, and Hermione almost asked why but he didn't give her the chance. His gaze snapped back to her and it seemed he'd reached a firm decision with himself._

_ "Are you ready?" Harry asked. And that's when something terrible finally occurred to her._

_ "If I do this... what happens to you here, Harry?" She asked softly, though she already knew the answer, and that Harry knew it, too. His fierce gaze seemed to gentle slightly, a ghost of a smile crossing his face._

_ "I beat him, of course."_

_ Tears welled up in Hermione's eyes as she stared at her best friend for what might be the last time. She knew she might not survive the past, might not make her way back to a new future. She might lose him forever here on this cold stone floor surrounded by the dead bodies of their fallen friends._

_ "I love you, Harry," she simply said._

_ "I'll see you soon," he replied with a faint smile, a smile that reminded her briefly of better days. She let her hands fall open around the Time Turner for him to cast his spell._

_ "Intoarce repede." Immediately the tiny hourglass began to spin counterclockwise, flashing so fast that the tiny sphere began to glow faintly from within. Hermione felt time began to slowly sift around her, differently than she'd ever felt it before. This time it was like a heavy blanket had been draped over her; like how she'd fall asleep at night so suddenly, and yet so slowly. She watched Harry through glazed eyes as the feeling grew heavier, more intense. She barely registered the sudden commotion behind Harry, only faintly acknowledged Voldemort's furious screams as he bore down on them, wand outstretched. The world fell away from under her as curse after curse echoed through the momentary rip in time that was all she left behind her on the cold floor of the Great Hall._

_ Harry's body thudded to the ground as Hermione disappeared from beneath him, though he no longer felt the dull pains that shot through him. He let himself fall to his back, staring up at the starry night sky above Hogwarts castle. He felt rather than saw Voldemort approaching him. A crazed scream, a flash of bright green light... and the Boy-Who-Lived smiled serenely to himself one last time._


	2. A Moment In Time

Disclaimer: I own nothing. I just like to take them out & play with them.

Author's note: FOR THE FULL VERSION OF THIS STORY, you can read it on Granger Enchanted or AO3.

Many thanks to my wonderful beta, bunnyhops, for making it prettier.:)

For my story playlist, you can find me on Spotify at spotify:user:1269614311, or email me for the track list.:)

**September 18th, 1978**

Thousands of shimmering candles lit the room, and the laughing voices of hundreds of students echoed against the cavernous walls of the Great Hall. A stormy night sky raged above, displayed almost picturesquely by the enchanted magical ceiling, it's true ferocity held at bay.

While all four tables seemed particularly energetic this night, one table was, as per their usual, outdoing themselves and everyone else. The Gryffindor table seemed a focal point for all things loud and lively; this was due in no small part to the group of four friends sitting at the middle of the table. The Marauder's were spirited this evening; all laughter and jokes, the center of everyone's attention. Just the way they liked it.

"Oi, Padfoot, tell us, mate!" James yelped, lobbing a bread roll across the table at Sirius's head. The latter laughed loudly and ducked swiftly out of the way.

"So I told him, 'Professor Dumbledore, sir, I have no idea how that potion got mixed into your shampoo bottle, but let me just say that blue is definitely your color- have you considered making the change permanent?'" Sirius finished his story and the Marauder's once again erupted into raucous laughter.

At the High Table, Professor Dumbledore glanced over at them and smiled. They caught his gaze through their merriment, and he raised his goblet to them in a toast. The shimmering candlelight reflected off his electric blue hair and beard, and was drawing quite a bit of attention from students and teachers alike. Professor McGonagall sat next to him with a look of absolute disapproval, lips pursed tight as she gave the Headmaster her best cold shoulder, much to his apparent amusement.

"And do tell us again how you managed to avoid detention after turning all of the Headmaster's hair blue?" Lily asked snarkily, leaning forward to address Sirius from her seat three spots down.

"Aw c'mon, Evans, you know Dumbledore's got a sense of humor buried underneath that beautiful hair of his." James answered her quickly, always eager for an opportunity to talk to the disdainful redhead. She spared him a cool look, lingering only momentarily on his handsome features, before returning her gaze to Sirius. A fleeting look of anger, so brief it seemed gone in an instant, passed over James's face, before he was smiling once more at his best friend in front of him.

"Well he just sort of gave me a funny look over those little glasses of his and he said, 'Next time, do remember that my favorite color happens to be purple, won't you?', offered me some Jelly Slugs, told me not to use the rest of the potion on McGonagall, and sent me on my way," Sirius said, seeming a little put out by the last thing Dumbledore had told him.

"Aw, how great would it have been to get ole' McGonagall," James replied, snorting as he took a big bite of treacle tart. Lily shook her head in obvious amazement, red hair sliding silkily over her shoulders.

"I can't believe he let you off; he must have thought it was a decent bit of potion work. I must agree though, Professor McGonagall would probably expel you if you did it to her. She looks pretty put out right now," Lily said before leaning back in her seat and resuming conversation with her friends. The Marauder's looked at their aforementioned professor simultaneously; she was now eying Dumbledore's neon blue beard with a fierce look of horror. The four friends looked at one another and burst into laughter once more.

At that very moment the candlelight in the Great Hall flickered once... twice... and then thousands of tiny lights extinguished in a swoop of unfelt air. The happy chatter throughout the room died at once and Dumbledore was on his feet, wand drawn. The Marauder's, who had looked instinctively to their Headmaster along with the rest of the student body, finally noticed after a few tense moments what it was that that now had Dumbledore striding rapidly around the High Table, eyes focused on a spot above the Gryffindor table.

All four friends looked above them to where every eye in the room was now focused. Sirius drew a sharp breath and rose to his feet moments before James did the same. They drew their wands, but Sirius did not raise his. He was too transfixed at the sight unfolding barely two feet above his head.

The air above him appeared to be swirling very fast, rolling and twisting, forming a concentrated pocket of space; a vortex. It made no sound, and it stretched no further than just a few feet over the table, but from deep inside thousands of lights flashed and spun. The center whirled more and more violently, churning and tossing ever more rapidly, casting off revolving lights into the darkest corners of the Great Hall. The lights danced through the shadows and just as Dumbledore reached their spot at the table and raised his wand, perhaps to cast some sort of shield to deflect whatever was coming... the focused area of time slowed and seemed to fold, collapsing in on itself. The bright lights compressed inward, forming a single, blinding ball of white light that hovered just inches above Sirius's upturned face. The light grew wider, larger, stretching and growing, and a dark shape began to form inside it. A long, distinctly human shape, stretched out over the length of the Gryffindor table.

And then very suddenly, not even two minutes after the entire phenomenon began, the light exploded outwards from the source, washing the Great Hall in a dazzling, beautifully iridescent glow. As the occupants of the room blinked and shook their heads in a dazed astonishment, a young girl hung suspended for barely moments more, and then her body dropped, crashing onto the table below. The light in the room blazed brilliantly as every window shattered and the magical ceiling above disappeared; the storm immediately raged into the room, soaking the now shrieking student body.

It took only seconds for the Gryffindor table to be swarmed by teachers, for Dumbledore to levitate the girls body up and for her to be rushed out of the room, but in those precious few seconds Sirius Black felt something he had never felt before. As he stood in numb shock, looking down at what was surely one of the most beautiful girls he'd ever laid eyes on, something stirred inside him. Something warm, instinctively protective, and immediately intrigued. He noticed several things in what felt like an instant, from her long, tangled, chocolate brown curls, her dark eyelashes stark against paper white skin; and also blood spattered robes, torn and ripped all over her body. She was bruised and beaten, soaked in what appeared to be her own blood, but the colors and insignia on her robes were still plain to see from where Sirius stood. Gryffindor red, though obscured by the dark blood, still showed plainly along the neck and cuffs of the tattered robes, and the Hogwarts sigil still shone brightly on her breast. This girl, whoever she was, was a student of Hogwarts school.

As this thought dawned on Sirius and the Headmaster levitated her still body off the table, he raised his gaze slowly along with the movement of her body. His eyes met James' as the girls body disappeared into the throng of teachers rushing her out of the room hurriedly; and that was when he first saw it. In his best friends eyes, the same look of pure amazement and wonder that was coursing through Sirius in such powerful waves. And he knew when he saw that expression begin to fade that James had also realized, had felt that same pang in his heart. After all, how could they let themselves get into this situation, and so instantaneously? It was crazy, madness- but it had just happened. As the two friends held each other's gaze for just moments longer it felt to Sirius as though an invisible line had been drawn, and a gauntlet thrown.

Just three seats down the table, Lily was also staring at James as she experienced her own terrible moment of understanding. At any other time, in any type of dangerous situation, James' eyes would have been on her immediately, always watching her, always following her. She had taken this for granted, she acknowledged to herself as she had seen his wide-eyed amazement, practically seen the image of her fade from his eyes to be replaced by someone else. And deep in her heart, something gave a painful twist; had she lost him so suddenly?

"Ow! Merlin, Padfoot, watch where you're stepping with those elephant feet of yours!" James hissed as he shuffled along with Sirius and Remus under the Invisibility Cloak. It was after midnight and the trio was attempting to sneak into the Hospital Wing, which according to the Marauder's Map had finally been vacated of all but one Hermione Granger. Madame Joy had finally finished tending to the girl and retired to her quarters just off the ward, and they were determined to sneak in and get a good look at the mysterious Hermione.

_'Well,'_ Remus thought sourly to himself, _'Padfoot and Prongs want to see her again. I could be studying. Or sleeping. But no, they just had to be bickering over her like children. Why can't I be warm in my bed like Wormtail, not mediating between these two brats?' _He continued a running string of irritated thoughts as the other two Marauder's squabbled back and forth in hushed voices. Remus stumbled over someone's feet for what had to be the hundredth time and he let out a barely perceptible growl.

"Well, uh, this cloak isn't as big as it used to be," he grumbled to himself in irritation. His friends halted their quarreling just long enough to momentarily give him their attention.

"It's okay, Moony, we understand if you can't help but bump into us _accidentally _every few seconds," James whispered tauntingly. Remus felt his eye begin to twitch.

"Yeah, Moony, it's total _animal attraction_, you know? Don't beat yourself up about it," Sirius snickered as he quite on purpose jostled his shoulder into him again. Remus growled a little more loudly this time.

"Oooh, getting a little touchy are we? Don't worry mate, we won't tell Wormtail you were flirting with us," Sirius was barely controlling his laughter now, and Remus could practically picture him batting his ridiculously long eyelashes at him in the darkness. The prat.

"We wouldn't want Wormy to get his feelings hurt or anything, you know, since we're the true objects of your affection," James snorted, clearly amused with the entire thing.

"Just so you know though Moony, I'm no good at sharing, so get those kinky little threesome fantasies out of your head- I'm a one wolf man, so to speak," Sirius finished off, and he and James immediately halted their already slow progress to collapse in a fit of silent laughter. Remus closed his eyes, drew in a deep breath and let it out slowly. _'Why didn't I just say no to them tonight? At this rate we won't get back to bed until almost dawn," _he thought to himself darkly.

"Can we please move it along, children? Need I remind you that we are only out here at almost two in the morning to see some strange, unconscious girl that you both absolutely _insisted _you had to see tonight?" Remus whispered harshly to his two best friends. They immediately sobered and silence reigned once more under the Cloak. Remus felt a moment of guilt, but pushed it aside. Padfoot and Prongs were best mates; they wouldn't let some, albeit beautiful, but peculiar new girl affect their friendship. Besides, James had been fixated on Lily since practically the moment he laid eyes on her; he wouldn't so quickly turn from her to go after another girl, let alone one that Sirius was also obviously interested in. No, Remus assured himself as the trio slowly but steadily crept down the first floor main hallway towards the Hospital Wing, there was nothing to worry about.

They were close to the tall infirmary double doors now, just feet away from their goal, when one of the doors began to slowly creak open. The Marauder's froze in their tracks, unprepared to come upon anyone now that the ward was nearly deserted. James glanced down frantically at the Marauder's Map, which he knew he had checked only minutes ago. It showed nothing new; Hermione Granger lay at the far end of the Hospital Wing and Madame Joy was sleeping in her room adjacent to the wing. The Marauder's were shown just outside the doors, grouped in a tight huddle. No one else moved nearby, but the door continued to swing open. Each boy gripped his wand tight by his side.

Then, and they breathed a collective sigh of relief, out stepped none other than Professor Dumbledore himself. His bottle green robes shone deeply in the light of the torches that lined the walls around them and his hair had been returned to it's natural silver state. He strode slowly, almost serenely, nearer and nearer to where the Marauder's crouched with bated breath underneath the Invisibility Cloak.

"It would seem I happened upon the three of you at a most opportune time," Professor Dumbledore said mildly as he approached their apparently not quite so hidden hiding place. James swore under his breath and pulled the Invisibility Cloak from over their heads.

"How in Merlin's fabulous name did you know we were here?" Sirius exclaimed incredulously. Dumbledore raised an eyebrow quizzically, bright blue eyes sparkling with amusement behind his half-moon spectacles.

"There are, shall we say, certain privileges to being me, dear Mr. Black," Dumbledore replied rather cheerfully, smiling slightly now at the matching infuriated looks on Sirius and James' faces. Remus, while caught of guard by the Headmaster's sudden appearance, couldn't deny he wasn't surprised. It seemed fitting that only Dumbledore would have worked a way around their ingenious map, and used it to foil them tonight.

"I had expected such a visit from this particular group of people tonight, given the nature of the young lady's arrival and the, shall we say, inquisitive traits you three posses. However, I fear I must hinder your efforts, at least for the time being. She is resting peacefully now, after what appears to have been a very disturbing day, and what was a very strenuous night. She required immediate emergency medical attention, and her body is recovering from a massive system shock. She needs rest and silence tonight as her body begins the healing process," Dumbledore explained to the trio of wordlessly listening boys.

Sirius and James glanced sideways at one another, and Remus could see their uncertainty, but also their resignation. They both sighed in annoyance and looked back to their Headmaster.

"We understand, sir. Do you believe she'll stay here while she recovers?" James asked now in a perfectly polite tone, though Dumbledore didn't seem fooled by the sudden obedience

"I expect that she will remain here for the duration of her recovery, yes. Beyond that I cannot yet say," Dumbledore said, and then continued somewhat hesitantly, "If I am not mistaken, and if I may say so myself I rarely am, I believe that you all were close enough to our new guest to see the Gryffindor emblazoned robes she... arrived in," he finished, now fixing all three Marauder's with a pointed look. They shuffled a bit, glancing at one another before Sirius answered.

"Yes, sir, we did... and I don't suppose you're going to tell us anything about that, right?" he asked with a small smile of his own, though curiosity was bright in his eyes and barely concealed in his tone.

"Alas, Mr. Black, I do not know enough at the present time to say how she came to be in those robes, or even how she appeared so... captivatingly in the middle of the Great Hall. I do know, however, that it is doubtful anyone else was close enough to the girl besides you and your friends to have noticed such details amongst the chaos. And so I must obtain a promise from all of you- you are not to mention these details to anyone, understood? It is unclear just yet how this young girl came to appear in our castle wearing our very own school robes, but for right now, it is of the utmost secrecy. Do I have your word?" Dumbledore's bright blue eyes were stern now behind his spectacles as he gazed at each boy in turn. They nodded mutely in assent. Dumbledore eyed them for a few moments longer before nodding in satisfaction.

"Thank you, each of you. Now I must send you back to your common room in the hopes that you will get at least a few hours rest before your classes," Dumbledore said, and gestured to James' hand still clutching the Invisibility Cloak. Just as he went to toss it over the Marauder's heads once more, Sirius spoke up quietly.

"Sir, would it be possible to visit her after tonight, perhaps? When she's rested more and it's not, ah, after hours?" he asked somewhat sheepishly. Dumbledore smiled once more.

"I believe that after a day or two has passed, it might would be acceptable for the three of you to see her for a short amount of time during the day, yes. It might do her good to be spoken to, yes," Dumbledore replied, and both Sirius and James breathed a small sigh of relief.

"Now, off to bed with you all, and do be careful to be quiet," Dumbledore told them, beginning to turn on his heel towards the direction of the Hospital Wing. James swung the Cloak over himself and his friends and they began to shuffle away before James stopped once more.

"Sir, I forgot to tell you one thing," he called quietly to their retreating Headmaster. Dumbledore paused and turned slightly, gazing unnervingly at their direct location even though the Cloak shielded them. He raised a single eyebrow in question to James' statement.

"Her name, sir. It's Hermione Granger."


	3. Under the Water

Disclaimer: I own nothing. I just like to take them out & play with them.

Author's note: FOR THE FULL VERSION OF THIS STORY, you can read it on Granger Enchanted or AO3.

Thank you to my wonderful NEW BETA, krazyredhead0317, who has taken this story over for me.:) & thank you once more to bunnyhops, who was my beta until now; due to time constraints she has passed it to krazyredhead.

******IMPORTANT:** Sorry for the long wait, everyone! I switched to my new beta just a couple of days ago when bunnyhops passed it to her; it shouldn't take this long from now on.:)

For my story playlist, you can find me on Spotify at spotify:user:1269614311, or email me for the track list.:)

She was floating in a haze of time and memories. Everything seemed so disconnected, fragmented; as if she was adrift amongst the waves of her own consciousness. Sometimes it seemed she drifted closer to the surface, barely surfacing above the murky depths, before she was pulled down, down, down...

"Merlin, is she even alive? She doesn't look like she's breathing," an unfamiliar voice whispered from what seemed very far away.

"Of course she's alive, you prat. Now, quit ogling her like an arse and pay attention to this map; we need to figure out how Dumbledore managed to conceal himself from us," this annoyed voice was almost familiar, barely teasing at the edges of her consciousness, "That means you too, Padfoot; get your eyes back over here," it snapped sharply in irritation.

"Damn, Moony, tense much today? The full moon's not for another five days, what's got your wand in a knot?" This voice seemed vaguely familiar as well, deep and slow; it tempted her, making her wish she knew how to swim up from this dark abyss of endlessly elusive thoughts. She fought against the slowly oncoming nothingness, but the distant sound of voices faded and she was gone once more.

"Should we try not try waking her up yet, Albus? If she stays unresponsive like this much longer, the board is going to order her transfer to St. Mungo's. We don't even know what's happened to her; she might never wake up from it if we don't at least try," this voice was soft and soothing, but also threaded with urgency that made her own heart throb faster with worry. Who was she referring to that might never wake up? The poor girl; Hermione couldn't fathom such an accident, never opening her eyes again, seeing the smiling faces of her friends and family. Her friends... why did that pull at something deep in her, make her heart beat faster and her breath seem shorter? And why did everything still seem so distant, so far away...

"I do not wish to risk waking her too soon, before her body and mind have had adequate time to repair themselves. She has been through grave trauma, things I can only guess at; but if my speculations are close to correct, and they generally are, she needs more rest. She is already trying hard to waken on her own- did you read her heart waves jumping just now? She needs time, Madame Joy, that is all- just a little more time," a voice so achingly familiar, so painfully close but yet fading away as the world fell out from under her once more...

"I can't believe they're already talking about moving her to St. Mungo's! Those morons, she'll never get any better if they stick her in that mentally irreversible ward, no one to ever talk to her or keep her company! Dumbledore can't be considering letting them transfer her; he has to know she'll never wake up if they do," that same voice she remembered from not so very long ago, so low and rich, calling to her in a way that felt impossible to ignore. She wanted so badly to open her eyes, know who he was. His name seemed to hover just along the confines of her mind, along with so many other excruciatingly important things that she knew needed addressed, but she simply couldn't find the power to attend to.

"There might not be anything that anyone can do, Padfoot. She's been traumatized; on the run for a while from the looks of her, probably tortured- you saw those scars on her arm when Madame Joy was changing her bandages. Someone carved that word there with a darkly enchanted blade. Whatever happened to send her here couldn't have been good; she was soaked in her own blood and Merlin knows whom else's. She's practically comatose- Madame Joy said she hasn't seen her move even once," a boy's weary voice replied. Hermione wished she could tell him not to worry so much, that he seemed to carry the weight of the world in his words alone. But though she strained and cried out inside her own mind, she was unable to say the words, unable to communicate though she was fast becoming desperate to do so. Why could she say nothing? She felt trapped, confined here... but where was here? She could not move or open her eyes and though she cast her mind back as far as she could, all that came to her was an intense wave of sorrow. No memories, though she searched fervently now for them. Urgency began to build within her and Hermione began to panic- was she the girl, the one that everyone around was discussing? If so, was it true that she might never wake up, but stay trapped here within her own thoughts for eternity? How was it even possible that her mind could be fully functioning, but her body unable to respond?

_Was _her mind working perfectly, though? How could she lay here, able to analyze and absorb everything happening around her, but be incapable of remembering how she came to this place? Or to explain that inexplicable feeling of gut wrenching loss that was tugging at her, inviting her to once again lose her tenuous grip on the present? It was so tempting to just let go and drift, away to that peaceful place where memories didn't dance tantalizingly outside her reach and a dark, sultry voice didn't tease her with a longing she had never before experienced.

"It's been almost two weeks now... do _you _think she'll wake up, Moony?" this was the unfamiliar voice from before. It didn't strike the same chord of emotion within her as the others had, but he sounded so sincere that she almost couldn't help wanting to reassure him that she would be okay; though in truth she was beginning to doubt that herself.

Hermione didn't hear the other boys reply as she floated into a haze of taunting thoughts and disjointed emotions that threatened to drown her in her own mind.

"Miss Granger, can you hear me? I know you are aware of your surroundings to a certain degree; that you comprehend much of what is happening around you. Your heart rate increases when we speak to you, or when we discuss you in close proximity. I believe you are trying your hardest to regain consciousness, Miss Granger, but I fear that our time has run out. If you _can _hear me, I wish to briefly explain what I am going to attempt doing," this man's venerable old voice spoke hope through Hermione- could she be saved?

"It is a essentially a more complex, powerful version of the spell _Rennervate. _When performed correctly, it targets specifically Dark spells and enchantments. _If _you are not under the influence of such sorcery, the spell will be merely ineffective. You will feel nothing, and your present state will remain unaltered. If, however, you _are _under the influence of Dark Magic, which I and Madame Joy strongly suspect is the case... then I will attempt to battle it's influence over you. Should I succeed, it's hold will be destroyed and you will be free. If I should fail... well, Miss Granger, fear not- there are not a great many things I find myself to have failed at," he ended his rather dismaying speech with a cheerful tone.

Hermione couldn't shake the vague feeling of uneasiness that settled over her with his words; how could she not remember having such a powerful Dark spell cast on her? And why did the notion of having such Dark Magic lingering over her leave her so unsettled? It tugged incessantly now at her mind, pulling at her almost painfully- who had cast such a spell, and why did it hurt to think about it that way?

Hermione was now so engrossed in the growing sensation of discomfort that she almost didn't notice when the old man began to speak. She didn't understand the words he said, but though she was sure she had never heard them spoken before they felt familiar, like the comforting touch of a well-known hand. They washed over her in soothing waves, soft at first and then becoming more demanding. The very air around her seemed to hum now with suppressed energy, vibrating with an ever- increasing intensity, as the man's voice grew louder, almost thundering now as it crashed furiously over her.

Beyond her closed eyelids the faint light in the room began to dim, flickering wildly as the charged atmosphere became ever stronger. The air pressed in on her body from all sides, and a pressure was forming in her mind. It swelled, filling every corner, every crevice; any retreat she sought for relief, it was there, prowling relentlessly. Hermione felt a scream of frustration building, a cry of anguish- would it never be over?

The flashing lights continued to burst and a deep noise began to echo throughout the room. A horrible, growling sound that ripped at her with claws and fangs, dealing agony to every inch of flesh, every molecule of her being. She felt her body finally respond after weeks of vegetation, bowing now to the crushing force pushing her to new limits. Her back arched off the bed, spine curving sharply as Dark Magic burned it's way through her very soul. The snarling howls reached a fever pitch, and Hermione could now hear terrible shrieks joining the ferocious roar, and realized they were her own. The bedlam was drowning out every shred of sanity left within her; this noise would never end.

Just when she thought every fragment of her being would splinter apart at the torment, it was suddenly over. The lights in the room glowed brightly once more against her closed eyelids, and a tranquil breeze whispered softly against her skin for a few moments, soothing the aches left behind. Her back relaxed as the pain disappeared and she fell back onto the soft bed with an overwhelming sense of relief. Something was gone now from her mind, some oppressive force she hadn't even realized was there until it was removed.

Memories rushed in now, clamoring about for dominance within her head. The hunt for the Horcruxes, her brutal torture at Malfoy Manner, breaking into Gringotts; and then the Battle of Hogwarts. So many lives lost. So many friends gone from her forever. And Harry, the last of them alive there with her and the best man she had ever known, sacrificing his own life to send her far away. Giving her an opportunity to rewrite their very history. She became aware of a growing dampness on her cheeks and realized she was crying, sobbing softly for the first time in weeks as her reality set in.

"Miss Granger, do you believe yourself fit to speak with me at the present moment, or would you like some time to compose yourself?" His voice was gentle, and Hermione couldn't help that she began to sob harder upon hearing his voice. Many months had passed since she had last spoken to Albus Dumbledore, and it occurred to her now that here, in the distant past, his would be one of very few familiar faces. But she had to get it together- Harry had trusted her with this precious mission, and only she now had the power to see it through.

Hermione forced herself to slow her choked sobs, calm her ragged breathing; she would do this, for Harry. She gradually quieted, steadying herself against the conversation to come. Her body still now, she took one last, deep, calming breath and opened her eyes to a new world.

"I must confess myself intrigued, Miss Granger; it is doubtful that Hogwarts has ever been host to such an instantaneous burst of dazzling magic. However, I am also deeply concerned about the nature of such raw power. Aside from the debilitating effects the spell left upon you, it would take immense skill to breach this castle's wards and defenses. Also, and I am somewhat hesitant to suggest this... but such an incredible feat would be even more extraordinary when done across a time period of roughly twenty years," Professor Dumbledore was seated in a large, transfigured armchair by Hermione's hospital bed. His long fingers were steepled together before him, as was his habit, and his bright blue eyes were fixed intently upon her.

Sorting through all that Dumbledore had just said, Hermione felt confused overall. On the surface he seemed almost to be praising the powerful magic that Harry had performed, he was also implying something decidedly more... sinister.

_'And how has he already worked out that I'm from a different time?' _Hermione wondered admiringly.

"Professor, I'm still not entirely sure I understand what you're implying about the magic that sent me here. It didn't feel Dark when it was cast, and Har- the person who performed the spell, is- was... about as far away from being a Dark wizard as it's possible to get," Hermione replied as she attempted to lever herself up into a more comfortable position. The searing pain was gone, but her body still protested movement after weeks of inactivity, and she felt soreness all the way to her bones.

"I do no seek to cast aspersions onto the character of whomever sent you to this time, Miss Granger; but the incantation I cast on you would only be effective against Dark Magic, and only powerful Dark Magic could put up a fight like that. Perhaps it is possible that your acquaintance was unaware of the nature of the spell they used, but I consider that unlikely. To properly execute such a spell, one would have to be well-versed in not only the workings of the Dark aura, but also I suspect time theory and alternate universe reality," Dumbledore said this all in a very matter-of-fact manner. Hermione could only stare in shock in response.

_'How is that possible? Harry... what was he messing with? All that time alone in the library our sixth year, those nights he disappeared into the Forbidden Forest; the times he left the tent to brood alone outside... was this really what he was delving in to?' _Hermione felt sick to her stomach the more she thought about it. How had she not noticed these things until it was too late? Would it have changed anything even if she had? She felt numb; what else did she not know about Harry?

"I do not wish to frighten or hurt you, Miss Granger; I just want you to understand the true seriousness of what has been done. I will not speak on it again for the moment; instead, let us now discuss the true question- what year exactly are you from?" Dumbledore's piercing gaze seemed to see straight through her, and she forced her concerns about Harry to the back of her mind.

"I- I came here from the year 1998, sir," she answered quietly. He raised his eyebrows in apparent amazement and seemed to become lost in thought for several moments. Hermione didn't wish to interrupt him, but she too had a burning question that she couldn't help inquiring about.

"Professor, how did you realize I'm not from this time?" she asked finally after a few minutes had passed in silence. Dumbledore blinked, apparently shook out of his reverie.

"Ah, yes, I did forget to explain that. Given the spectacular, yet strange, nature of your arrival, the Dark Magic lingering over you and our limited knowledge of your person, I inspected your wand. A wand can tell a surprising many things about someone, Miss Granger. For example it is made of vine, a symbol of powerful emotions, both happiness and wrath. The core is dragon heartstring, meaning you are capable of highly powerful, though sometimes hazardously dangerous magic- it takes a very strong witch or wizard to fully master this core. Also, I learned some of the last spells your wand performed before arriving here: Confringo, Stupefy, Expelliarmus, Protego, the Patronus Charm- all of these to name a few. I can deduce from this that you were recently in a battle, and a very fierce one judging by the state you arrived in. But most importantly, and to answer your question, a wand will always carry within it a date of origin charm. In other words, it showed me that it was fashioned in early 1990, thirteen years in our future," Dumbledore said to her. Hermione was unsurprised at his deductions.

_ 'Dumbledore,' _she reflected somewhat fondly, _'will never change.'_

He was looking at her steadily now, quietly; giving her time to think, she knew. To let everything happening fully sink in. Allowing her time to understand that though she was safe at Hogwarts, she was in foreign territory. Almost everyone she knew and loved, while not gone from her forever, were nowhere to be found here. Inside these castle walls was an already unfolding timeline that she needed to alter, and outside a war was raging that would never end unless she accomplished something drastic; something desperate.

Instinctively she knew that no matter what she managed to change, who she managed to save from Voldemort's wrath, it would all be for naught if she didn't achieve one vital goal: the destruction of the Horcruxes. Harry had known too, she realized, that even if the prophecy hung over his head once again, he would be helpless still against Voldemort's invincibility. She could save countless lives, alter an untold number of destinies, but it would be in vain if even in the new world no one could defeat the Dark Lord.

Hermione became aware that she had been sitting for many minutes now ruminating over her newly acknowledged mission. Professor Dumbledore had been kindly silent as he allowed her to consider everything, but she could see the thinly disguised curiosity in his gaze. Here she was, a clearly battle scarred girl from the future, obviously in possession of important knowledge about his world. He was practically brimming with questions that Hermione understood he was probably fearful to ask. After all, she had clearly been sent back years through time for a reason. She took a deep breath, unsure of how to phrase all that needed to be said.

"Professor Dumbledore... sir, I understand that you have questions. I would have them as well in a situation like this. And while there _is _a reason for my being here, a purpose that Har- my friend sent me back with, I don't think it would be wise for me to tell you very much about the current future. It might frighten you into making hasty decisions or actions that would only speed up certain incidents. And even though there are things I came here hoping to change, to alter... there are still certain events that I believe are vital. If they don't take place, sir, we'll never win; we'll never defeat Voldemort," Hermione told him softly, but firmly.

She saw surprise on his face when she said the name that most feared to utter, and then the dawning realization as her words sank in. He appeared to accept her wish to not reveal too much, however, and she was grateful. While she would at some point have to obtain his help in the destruction of the Horcruxes, it was still absolutely necessary that he not accidentally obstruct important moments in time from occurring. Harry Potter must still be born, and the prophecy made about him alone having the power to defeat Voldemort. It was her job simply to ensure that Lily and James did not have to die protecting him.

"You are undoubtedly correct, Miss Granger. Knowledge is a powerful tool; when wielded lightly its effects can be catastrophic. I hope that you understand when I say that, that I am also referring to everything you currently have insight into about this past and your own future. To hold such power over lives, over futures... you must not allow yourself to be carried away by that power. Remember that there will always be things you are not aware of; stories you never knew. By erasing one thing you may bring others to light, and they will carry their own consequences, for good or ill. I will not say that I do not wish for a brighter future, one without the evil of Lord Voldemort. I will not pretend selflessness; I desperately hope for peace, happiness for the ones I care about."

"But Miss Granger, know this; if you alter your history, no matter how big or small, it will come at a price. You may change and save many lives, but the people you once knew will be forever altered, and you may find yourself different as well. Time is a tricky, dangerous thing- whatever spell and device were used to send you back to this time have not yet even been invented, due to it's inconstant nature. It is forever shifting and crossing with parallels; you will not be able to predict the effects of returning to your own time until the moment you arrive," he finished, and Hermione mulled over everything he had said.

She was scared, she admitted that to herself. Terrified to be honest. When she finally walked out of the doors to the Hospital Wing, a new life would begin for her; one in which she possibly held the fates of many, many lives in her hands. Could she handle that kind of pressure? Knowing that one small slip could mean the loss of someone who shouldn't have died, a person who would have lived if she had never appeared here? She began to shake now, small tremors quaking her body as she realized all that she could do... or undo.

Something else occurred to her now, too. Something Dumbledore had just mentioned that she also had not considered. Time Turners... they hadn't yet been invented in the past. Nor would they be, if her memory was correct, for about another five or six years. Though she hadn't yet asked Dumbledore about the fate of the Time Turner she came here with, she already had a good idea of what had happened to it. The combination of spinning back so far, much further than it was technically intended to function, and Harry's Dark spell cast on it, had most likely shattered the device upon her arrival. She steeled herself for the confirmation; she had to ask, had to know for sure.

"Professor... their was a device with me, on a long golden chain around my neck, when I came here. It was the instrument I used to travel back in time, though the Dark spell used on it helped send me so far back. Sir... what happened to it?" she asked in a voice barely above a whisper. Even though she knew his answer before he gave it, had already resigned herself to the reality of her time here, it was still a painful to hear when Dumbledore spoke.

"The device shattered upon your arrival, Miss Granger. The golden chain was still around your neck, though covered in blood like the rest of you. And quite tangled in your hair I might add; Madame Joy had fits trying to remove it without breaking it. While the device itself did not survive your journey, however, we were able to successfully remove the chain. While functionless alone, I suspected it might hold some sentimental value to you, if my suspicions about you were true. I have it here, if you would like it back," Dumbledore told her gently, clearly trying to soften the blow of his words, though there was no way to fully stop the rush of emotion that settled over her. This was it; for good or bad, this was her new life for possibly a very long time.

Dumbledore reached into his pocket, even though she had not responded to his offer. From inside he retrieved a long, shining gold chain. The tiny, interlocking grooves still gave off the faintest glow of magic, though the ends dangled empty in the air, missing the central piece that connected and gave them power. Hermione reached out, somewhat reluctantly, and took it from his hand. It wasn't that she didn't wish to keep it, exactly; it was the only memento other than her wand that she would ever have of the world she had known. But it was also a symbol of everything she had lost, just like the missing piece of the chain.

She lifted the ends up close to her face so that she could see the tiny links. Though the actual hourglass and frame were gone, she was still able to lock the two ends together with minimal effort, bending the tiny gold pieces over one another until the chain looked like simply a long gold necklace. Hermione placed it over her head and wrapped it twice around, pulling her hair out from under the back so it lay flat across her shoulders. Though not much, it provided small measure of comfort; it would not ease the pain deep inside her, nor would it bring back what she had lost. But it would remind her of those things, and that she must fight to get them back.

Beside the bed, Professor Dumbledore rose to his feet and tucked his hands behind his back as he gazed down at her. The plush armchair behind him vanished silently and Hermione knew he was getting ready to depart.

"I will let you rest now, Miss Granger. Today is Friday, and so by Monday we will relocate you into the Gryffindor tower. I have already contacted the Ministry of Magic and arranged for your attendance here; I informed them you were a war victim whose parents had chosen to homeschool you, but you lost them recently in a battle with Voldemort. You were not born in Britain and your families names were no longer on the National Registry, as is common with some families who choose to live away from the wizarding world. You will be required to speak briefly with a Ministry representative who will give the release of your case over to Hogwarts, and then you will be allowed to attend the remainder of the school year. I am correct in assuming you are either or a sixth or seventh year, am I not?" he asked her politely. Hermione simply nodded in reply; there was no need in explaining that she was technically at the end of her seventh year, as she had not attended any of it. In a way, it would be nice to have the opportunity to complete that year now.

"Excellent. After the meeting, a test will be arranged for you to take as soon as you are feeling up to it.. Just a benchmark test, so to speak, to determine where exactly you are at in your learning. After that you will receive a schedule and supplies. I understand that this may seem like quite a lot very soon, but we need to smooth you in to the school body as quickly and unobtrusively as possible. Your appearance has caused quite the stir around here; a story has been told to both students and Ministry officials alike that you were merely transported here during the battle with Voldemort and his Death Eaters," Dumbledore instructed her on all of this, none of which was a surprise. She supposed she should be worried about the test she would be taking, but in all honesty she would know everything on that test just as easily as she knew it in her own time. As for the Ministry official, so long as she stuck to the simple story that Dumbledore had created for her, there would likely be no further investigation into her appearance; wizards and witches often had children they chose not to send off to school, and many of them never added their names to the National Registry so that they could live their lives without interference from the Ministry. It was frowned upon, but allowed.

No, what she was concerned about, what scared her the most, was facing the school. Mingling with a generation of students that would possibly be nothing like her. Some of whom she knew from her time, but only their adult counterpart. Many who she never knew because they would die soon after graduation. And a certain group of people, an important set of lives that she was determined to change. What if none of them even _liked _her? How could she get close enough to save them if she didn't become friends with them? Her frantic thoughts were interrupted once more.

"I will take my leave of you now, Miss Granger. Do try to rest; your body will sorely need it after today's ordeal," Dumbledore said. He gave her a small smile and turned away from her bed, walking slowly to the large double doors at the end of the ward. And it was then that Hermione thought of one last question, one last odd thing she hadn't figured out.

"Professor Dumbledore, sir! How was it you knew my name?" she called out curiously to his retreating back. He paused and looked back over his shoulder, and she could see that he was smiling broadly, seemingly amused by her question though she couldn't fathom why.

"Ah, yes; it would seem that you have admirers already, Miss Granger. Two of them, and a most... mischievouspair they are, along with their other two friends. They have a special map of Hogwarts, one they believe I am unaware of, that they invented. Quite an ingenious thing it is, really an impressive bit of magic if I must say so myself. It shows the names and whereabouts of everyone within the castle grounds, and it also showed them your name when you arrived. I believe they call it: The Marauder's Map."


End file.
